I'M RICH!

OK, not really. I'm broke. Paycheck to paycheck kinda thing like most people.
Robbing Peter to pay Paul.
Getting a paycheck every other week and depositing it on my lunch hour at the credit union and then coming home after work to pay bills on-line until it's gone.
I like paying on-line. Much less painful then the old days of writing out check after check and then addressing an envelope and getting a stamp and mailing it. Oh wow, I'm glad THOSE days are over!
So, I got paid on Monday and as I drove home, I have to drive past a section of town lined with little antique and collectibles shops. They are closed by the time I come home at night but sitting at the stoplight I could feel my eyes being pulled towards the sidewalk to some "chairs" bike-chained to the front of one of shops.
Crap.
I went home and paid "some" of the bills.
The next morning, through frost covered windows I squinted out at them. Blue leaned forward for a look but didn't have any appreciation for them.

At work I told some of the "girls" about them. I was starting to describe them,
"They're Mid-Century Modern..." and was met with laughter.- "What is THAT?!"
Groan.
OK, I know not everyone is into the "stuff" that I like but what's with the laughter.
Why am I EVEN explaining?
Why am I TRYING to talk to them?

I had Wednesday off. I drove to the shop and she made a deal. All 4 chairs and a table for a $100.
But I don't need a table. I have a table. and THIS table was NOT a Tulip table.
If it was, well I would have needed THAT.
But I only need 2 chairs. I already have 2 high-back iron chairs and I don't like too matchy-matchy.
My style is Mid-Century Modern/Old Weird stuff Eclectic.
Now the old me would have wanted it all and would plan on fixing up the other 2 chairs and reselling them.
But the new me, the WIP me, knows that the basement is full of that kind of junk so...
I'm proud to say, I just got TWO.
But since I'm paycheck to paycheck, I won't be paying one of the Paul's.
That Paul being the Phone/Internet Paul.
So if I disappear for a while, you know why.
So I will end the suspense, here's the chairs....they need some work. They each have a crack at the front of the seat and there's rust on the pedestal part. But they are the REAL DEAL and not some Target knock-off. I don't think it should be that hard to repair them back to being bright white and shiny!

(Don't look at my house, I hate the floor. Just look at the chair.)

Oh, and here's Rosie.

I didn't talk about this before but after the horrible "pole falling on her" accident, I took her in for a dental. She had some very bad teeth and her gums were looking horrible.

I didn't want to do it because my dear friend Nita lost her little dog the day after he had a dental and then my sister's cat died right after his dental! So I was fit to be tied. I REALLY didn't want to do it. The head tech told me that she had a little Pomeranian once with teeth as bad as Rosie's and she told the vet that she would rather lose her than have her continue on with her mouth being so bad. I told her that I would rather have Rosie have a bad mouth and be ALIVE than have her DEAD.
I said she had been through SO much and it was such a miracle that she recovered, that I didn't want to lose her now. So, they did the dental and I stood at their elbow. I questioned everything they did. I watched the monitor, I read the numbers out loud to them. I drove them crazy. After the procedure, as she woke up she started gagging up blood and phlegm. They said that was usual. Then she coughed up more.
And more.
I stood and watched her as the tech put her in her kennel. Then she started to twist. I loudly exclaimed, "What's wrong! What's wrong?!"
So they pulled her out of the kennel and she was having seizures. Doc commented on how she was making figure eights with her body. Finally they stopped. They said it most likely was because of the brain trauma she had experienced from the pole accident.
Finally she was completely awake. I took her back into my work area with me. She gagged up more but finally stopped that too. I took her home and gave her meds for several days and now....
She's not 100%.
I think she's 110%! She's sassier than she's ever been. I guess they were right. Her mouth must have been really hurting her and making her feel "not so great".
Now she's running around the house, attacking her little stuffed animals.
She sits on the floor heat vents and does her "Marilyn Monroe" thing.
She gallops around the yard and dances in circles on the bed.
And poses in my new chair.
Yep, I got me some cool chairs and I got a healthy Rosie, so
I'm RICH!